


We walk in shadows shamed

by empires



Series: Collected Prompts [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:18:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8301436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empires/pseuds/empires
Summary: prompt: Hey-idk if ur still taking prompts but if u are, a prompt where Jason is severely depressed and self-loathing cause all the ppls he's upset. and Dick is the only one that seems to take notice because every1 in the batfam is still sore abt the things he's done.





	

Above the holographic table floats a detailed simulation of Gotham City experiencing the threats announced in today’s crisis. The simulation runs to its chilling end with the city enveloped in a bright ball of white light. Smoke and flames funnel through the ordered streets leaving ash in its wake. It’s a chilling scenario, one so familiar it echoes in Dick’s bones.

This time the villain is a seemingly small times arms dealer coordinating an intricate plot against Gotham’s masked vigilantes. The focus, the personal vendetta directed at the Batman, the collateral of his sons and daughters—even naming them such—recalls a similar plot that occurred a year ago when the Red Hood made his mark.

The Red Hood stands with them today alone on the opposite side from the other heroes. Mask down it's near impossible to tell what he's thinking. Tim and Stephanie mirror each other, arms crossed. Cass doesn’t move but her gaze darts between them. Bruce’s presence hangs over like a brooding shroud and his son, Damian, rocks from side to side, brow furrowed in thought. Dick and Luke hang around the table’s ends in neutral territory.

The skin on Dick’s thigh prickles, a phantom pain reminding him of the last time he and Jason met while standing on opposite sides. It shouldn’t be this way. He takes four quiet steps until he and Jason are shoulder to shoulder.

“We understand the stakes,” Dick say. “And we’re ready.”

“Oracle is listening.” Bruce announces. “And will update Batwoman’s team when we’re in position.”

Damian interrupts, saying, “Father, I know that it is not my place to question you.” He pauses for the disbelieving snort Stephanie doesn’t try to muffle. “But there is a flaw in this plan. It is Todd.”

The Red Hood tilts his head. The shiny polymer coating the helmet reflects Damian’s imperious finger pointing at him. “Oh?” Jason drawls. The helmet’s filtering system still manages to convey the bored lit in his voice.

“You have spent the better part of my lifespan training to strike down my father’s legacy. Even now, you are just returned to the city you nearly burned to the ground only to find your plan reinvigorated by someone else’s.” Damian doesn’t need to add the near casualties to that sentence.

“Pretend we’re the unenlightened buffoons your mother described and spell it out,” says Jason.

“I question your necessity. After all, we foiled your plans. So I ask this question, is the Read Hood needed?”

Jason stills even as his relaxes against the wall behind him. “I think the real question is can you afford to go without me? Spoiler alert! The answer is no, you can’t.”

“No, the real question is can Todd be trusted?” Damian retorts. “And I think we all know the answer. So I ask again, do we need him?”

“I’m here," Jason says, voice hard. "I think that answers that question.”

“Father does not trust you. You are paired with Grayson for this reason alone. Someone has to ensure that the device is disarmed. But given your predilection for explosions.” Damian shrugs.

“Dami,” Stephanie kicks at his ankle with the tip of her boot. “Really?”

“I expect you to have reached this conclusion as well, Brown, but I will stop for explanations if you need it.”

Bruce stands immovable, silent, lips pressing in a harsh line. He doesn’t deny it and Jason sags against the wall in an aggressive slump Dick would call him out for if. There’s always an if.

Cass brings her hand down. The movement is sharp, impatient.

“I agree,” says Dick. “We’re wasting time.”

“No, no, go ahead. Please. What better time to air grievances with everyone’s favorite disappointment?” Jason raises two lazy fingers into the air and bows. It’s hard to read Jason on a good day. His deflection cues have always been based in self-deprecating humor, in a wit dry as desert bones, in goading your anger with the comfortable way he cut through all the issues that lead back to your own. “You look like you’ve got something to add, Timbo. Shoot. But not to kill.”

Tim nods at the newest, smallest Robin. “I’m do not agree with him.  But I do feel uneasy when combining Red Hood with fire.” His eyes flick over to Dick. “That mix has never been safe.”

“Quick question. Who here has died in the past 10 years?” Jason raises his hand and laughs when Stephanie folds into her cape. "We're discussing a plan to take unsanctioned, illegal action against a heavily-armed paramilitary group who eliminated a coordinated mission between Gotham’s SWAT and the National Guard. They have blockaded themselves inside of a judicial building, threatened the city with bomb that can potentially lay waste to the city’s core, and have specifically called out the Bat of Gotham. Am I missing anything here?” Jason’s helmet swung from each of their faces. “Oh wait, yes. There are only seven of us risking our neck, and instead of getting a move on, we’re watching the little man grandstand. Congratulations, by the way, Bats, the al-Ghul is strong in this one.  

Jason laughs brightly. "But it’s me you don’t feel safe with.”

“Hood and I work well together. Never have any problems. If that makes any difference to anyone in the room.” Luke interjects into the roiling silence. “The wings in the room could trade out.”

Jason’s laughs again and this time the sound is soft with genuine amusement. “Don’t think it will. But thanks.”

Dick glares at his younger brothers, wondering how long Batman is going to let this go on. “It does. There’s no take backs once the assignments are made. This is a good plan. Hood and I are good. Batwing vouches for him, even if it’s entirely unnecessary.”

Damian returns it. “Forgiveness is an admirable quality, Grayson, but you would do well to remember the past. You should not be so soft.”

“You let him speak to you like that?” Jason whistles under his breath. Dick refuses to look at him. “You really are soft.”

“Enough is enough, Damian,” Dick says.

“We were really getting somewhere in this session, but I guess we should get to the actual issue. City to save and all,” Jason says, spreading a hand along the table and leaning over to meet Damian’s gaze. The computer generated flames lick across the helmet casting shadows. “What’s this really about kid? What do you want from me?”

“Your word that Grayson will return unharmed,” Damian says quietly, and for a moment, as he gazes up at Jason. He looks young, hopeful, everything he pretends not to be, and Dick’s heart kicks in his chest. “Can you do that?”

“Kid, why would you even...?” Jason stops midsentence and they’ll never know the reason. “A smart Robin would ask me to bring him back alive. But we both know I can’t promise you either.”

“Damian.” Bruce lays a heavy hand on his son’s shoulder. The weight arrests the unsheathing of Damian’s sword. “You are right. It’s not your place to question, not now. I do trust you.” Bruce sweeps his gaze across the young, determined heroes assembled before him. The quiet certainty cuts through each of them. Bruce’s trust has always felt like that, cold, chilling, unsettling like a winter’s chill slipping up your neck.

Beside him, Jason twitches. Dick forces himself not to do the same.

“I trust all of you to do your part and come back safely.” Bruce strokes Damian’s hair back from his head before stepping forward. His presence grows placid like still lake waters reflecting that chilling assurance again from a deeper, more commanding place. “Red Robin, Batwing. Secure the city’s power grid. Black Bat, Batgirl, and Robin, you will push in from the north east side, giving the police time enough to reestablish their perimeter. Nightwing and Red Hood.”

“We’re on bomb duty. Find and dismantle on O’s go,” Dick says, confirming their tasks.

Jason throws an arm over his shoulder and leans in close. “It will be a blast. Oh come on,” he says when Dick frowns. “That was a good one.”

“This briefing is over. Red Hood, with me.” Bruce turns on his heel and heads deeper into the cave. The leather in Jason’s gloves creak, fists closing, and all at once Dick can feel a hot fury radiating from Jason’s body like a tangible thing. He stands eventually, stalking past Dick to walk in Batman’s wake.

Later, Dick finds Jason in the vehicle bay resting against one of the motorcycle, a prototype that Bruce has spent the last few months fine tuning. The mask’s chin rests against his chest, which rises and falls in deep, slow breathes. Meditating or perhaps calming himself. Dick isn’t sure, but there’s no peace in the quiet.

“T-minus 10,” Dick says in greeting.

Jason shudders, coming to life at the sound of Dick’s voice. The red helmet tilts up. “Finish with your speech already?”

“Yes. I’m pretty sure everybody got one,” says Dick.

“And here I thought I was special.” Jason stands carefully, stretching his long body out before approaching Dick. He takes an extra step, one that puts his body inside Dick’s personal space. “We should go ahead and get this over with.”

“Get what over with?”

“Your speech. Say that you forgive me. That you feel safe with me. That you don’t wake up screaming in the night anymore, or those nightmares aren't about me.” Jason shrugs. “Whatever it is you think you need to say for this bitch session. The lies you think I need to hear, say them.”

“Jay. No, come on. There’s nothing to say.”

“This is your last chance, Dickie. A free hit as it were.” Jason spreads his arms making himself an open target. “Clear your conscience. Absolve me of my wrong doings so we can work together.”

“Take it off then.” Dick can feel Jason’s smirk behind the mask but he can’t see it and that’s the problem. “The hood. You want my forgiveness, fine, but you’re going to have to look me in the eye.”

Jason looks away then, arms slapping down to his sides. “Then we find ourselves at an impasse, because that’s not happening anytime soon.”

Dick reaches out slowly touching the hard shell protecting Jason’s cheek. “Why not?”

Jason quiet for a long moment, body tense, impassive. Then he says, in a voice so torn the helmet cannot mask it, “After what I nearly did to you? How could you even want to? Why would I even let you?”

“Please.”

“No.” Jason pushes him away gently. “We need to get going. I thought we’d take theses finely crafted machines on a test run.” He swings a long leg over the motorcycle and settles into the seat.

“Flying would be faster,” says Dick. “But probably not as fun.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay.” He grabs the ropebag at their feet and slings it over his head and shoulder. He joins Jason on the bike. It sinks under their combined weight.

“What are you doing?” Jason sounds alarmed, tense, and grabs the hands stealing around his chest and middle. He grinds the skin and bones of Dick’s wrist in a strong grip.

“Save time if we share,” Dick replies, honestly. “And it’s the closest I can get to giving you what you need.” Contact. Support. Everything Jason swears he can do without. Jason is covered from head to toe. Encased in a shell of Kevlar and plastic, voice modified, it’s hard to find a piece of him that’s recognizable. There are no openings to see if he’s reaching Jason. No eye contact, no flush along freckled cheeks, not even a heartbeat to guide him. He wonders at how Jason has remade himself to this thing, frozen, blocked from the world, apart and alone.

“I don’t. And you’re pretty sick if you think I do.” Jason doesn’t throw him off despite his denial.

"I do trust you, Jay. I think I always will." Dick rests his head against Jason’s shoulder wishing he could at least see Jason’s eyes, touch his skin. He flattens his palms against Jason’s chest and hip. “There's so much shit between us. Maybe that's the reason why it's so easy for me to trust you. You know it better than anyone else, and you’re still with us when you need to be.”

Jason covers the hand on his chest, warm even through his gloves. “That brat is right you know?”

“Which one? Damian?” Dick asks, smiling sadly at the rusted laugh creaking from the mask.

“Yeah. You really are too soft.” Jason relaxes against him in slow increments, like a glacier’s thaw. “I’d understand if you didn’t, if this is one of those things you need to lie about,” he adds as if he needs to believe Dick would lie. “It’s plain as day. Even that brat wonder caught on. This plan, going after you guys in this way, it was endgame for my plan.”

“Yeah, I. I gathered as much.” He casts around for the right words to answer Jason’s confession, but there’s nothing he can say that doesn’t return him to that night. The night when he lay pinned to the floor, bleeding and alone. Fire crackling up the warehouse walls, the smell of turpentine rising from the barrels, wave after way of explosive air coming closer. Dick had thought he was going to die, bleeding, alone, and full of regret, until Red Hood dropped to his knees and pulled him from the wreckage. “But it’s not. No one could have known.”

“No one could have known that someone would recreate Red Hood’s run on Gotham? Crime hasn’t had an original thought in a decade and this city is full of copy cats. And if I hadn’t.” Jason wavers. “If I hadn’t, this probably wouldn’t be happening. And the thing of it is, Dickiebird. My plan is _working_. _Again_. When I put it together I wanted pain and blood. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to know that nothing here is safe, no one is off limits. The only problem was the things he loved? His city, his weird fucked up family? I care about them too.”

“I feel safe with you.” It isn’t until the words are out of his mouth that Dick realizes they were true. He’s feels extreme anger, maybe even rage, despair, frustration, hopelessness fighting with and against Jason. Sometimes he feels fear that Jason will never fully rejoin them that he is a step away from falling to a place none one can reach. But never unsafe. Even after triggering that stupid trap, lying under the brick and burning wood, he know he wouldn’t die alone with Jason there.

“You feel safe because I make you safe,” Jason snarls. “You think all this is for nothing? None of you are safe. We started this as stupid, fucked up kids, and even then, we weren’t safe. There’s no list out there saying who from the bat clan is exempt. I learned that lesson, and I promised to do whatever it takes to make sure no one else does.” Jason squeezes him tighter. “If I could be the biggest, baddest thing out there. If I could show them what the Red Hood could do. If I could make that list mine and show what would happen if someone tried to take what I wanted…. So many ifs and none of it worked. What did I even accomplish except for pulling you guys together out of shared hatred?

“You weren’t supposed to get hurt, Dickie. Not like that.”

“Little wing,” Dick sighs, bring his head to rest on Jason’s shoulder.

“Never like that,” Jason whispers, and Dick wonders if he sees it too, the fire spreading and the room swimming, smoke ghosting like memories in the flame. He wonders which memory haunts Jason in this moment.

“I know, Jason. I know,” Dick whispers. “I forgive you. I forgave you.”

“Yeah? Don’t know if I can forgive myself and Fuck. There’s really nothing to say after that is there. Dick?” His voice breaks and Dick can hear it then. The revulsion, the devastation. Dick pulls Jason against him. He goes without resisting, curling their fingers together.

“I got you,” is what he manages to say and Dick holds on with everything he has.

After a few minutes, Jason pulls himself upright, shoulders back, chest broad and waiting for Dick say to more. When nothing comes, he shifts his attention to the bike, flipping the ignition and turning on his coms.

“Hope you got what you needed out of that, N. because I met my sharing quota for the next fifty years.”

“That’s a long time make a guy wait around,” says Dick, because the moment is over for Jason. They have a job to do, a city to save. “Better make it worth my while.”

Jason snorts. “Feet up, Nightwing. It’s time to show them what real heroes can do.”

The motorcycle roars to life with strong kick and they shoot into the night.

 


End file.
